


(Waffle) Iron Man

by 27dragons, tisfan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Breakfast, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Past Tony Stark/Tiberius Stone, Post-Break Up, Violence Against Toasters, Waffles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25203190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Ana gave Tony a waffle iron when he moved out. Ty Stone appropriated it after their breakup. Tony wants it back
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 96
Kudos: 691
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, StarkBucksBingo2020





	(Waffle) Iron Man

**Author's Note:**

> Tisfan: BBB - U3 - Upgrade / Starkbucks Bingo N5 "That wasn't nice."  
> 27dragons: SBB N2 "Excuse me, I have to go make a scene"  
> Monobuu: SBB N5 - Knives

Usually, Tony Stark wasn’t much of an eater. For months, he and Bucky had gotten together for a once a month brunch, catch-up with their lives, coffee klatch thing. It wasn’t _dating_ , no matter what Nat or Steve (or even Sam once in a while) said. He and Tony weren’t dating, they’d _never_ dated. In fact, usually the bitch-and-moan session of their meal was Tony talking about his various exs.

And in that time, Tony mostly just drank half a dozen cups of coffee and maybe had a couple of slices of toast. The most Bucky had seen him eat was half a plate of scrambled eggs.

Today, however, he had gotten two servings of belgian waffles with blueberries, and he was, at that very moment, scraping blueberry sauce off his plate. Bucky wasn’t sure he wouldn’t stoop to licking the plate if there weren’t people watching. 

Tony licked the last of the syrup off the tines of his fork and then looked at the menu pensively, as if he were considering ordering a third.

“I see it’s the Great Conjunction of the Waffle stars,” Bucky commented. “Not getting enough Vitamin W in your diet or something?”

“I’ve had a craving for like two weeks,” Tony said, still eyeing the menu. “And Ty took my waffle iron when he moved out.” Ty being the most recent of Tony’s exes, and the one most obviously in need of a punch to the face.

“Aw, man, that was a nice waffle iron, too,” Bucky commiserated. He’d seen it a few times, usually when Tony had a party and Clint was there, because Clint could smell waffle irons and pizza makers from miles away. And most of the time, you could trust Clint with a jug of pre-mixed pancake goo.

_Mostly._

“Yeah,” Tony said morosely. “Old-school, no bells and whistles, but it cooked fast and it was _solid_ , you know? Ana and Jarvis gave it to me when I moved out on my own.” Ana and Jarvis, Bucky knew from previous discussions, had practically raised Tony, more parents to him than his actual parents.

“But, uh,” Bucky said, thoughtfully. “That waffle iron way predates the relationship. It was _yours_. I mean, it’s not like half the fancy kitchen gadgets you had weren’t-- mutual things. You know, relationship-co-ownership.” More Ty than Tony, really, because Ty liked having fancy things, even if he never, in fact, used any of them. He wanted to display his fancy, expensive coffee maker and brag about it, but the man couldn’t tell the difference between a well-pulled shot of espresso and a cup of Folgers.

“Yeah, but I was just so glad he was _gone_. I didn’t want to go over to his new place and have to talk to him again to try to get it back. Anyway, he used it more than I did, so...”

“So what?” Bucky asked. “It was _yours_.” They were both avoiding the obvious non-answer, which was, Tony could always buy another one. Which Tony had probably considered and rejected, which is why he was surreptitiously running his finger through the depleted sauce and licking it when he thought Bucky wasn’t watching.

“I know, I just... Ug. He’s going to be a dick about it, you know he is.”

“He’s a dick, I know,” Bucky said. He hadn’t liked Ty the very first time he’d met the man. Tony, for being as bright as he was, and as likeable as he was, and as completely _sex-on-legs_ as he was… had terrible taste in boyfriends. Maybe it was for the best that he and Tony had never dated. At least Bucky wasn’t questioning all of his character flaws while sitting in a diner. “Let me ask you a question-- do you want the waffle iron because _you_ want it? Or because you don’t want _him_ to have it?”

It didn’t matter either way. Bucky had already decided that much. He was going to get it back for him if he had to enlist his entire crew and go fucking wreck Ty Stone. It was more a matter of how vindictive he was going to be about it, and whether or not Tony would, in fact, actually enjoy the wrecking.

“Because I want it,” Tony said, without so much as pausing to think about it. “It’s... I don’t use it very often, but it reminds me of Sunday mornings down in the kitchen with Ana, making waffles and cutting up fruit and just...” He scrunched up his nose, adorably. “I don’t know how to say it.”

“Then let’s damn well go get it,” Bucky said. He looked around for their waitress. 

“But...” Tony fished out his wallet on automatic, and then looked directly at Bucky with a faint frown. “You’re coming with me?”

“What, you think I’d let you go alone? Come on, Ty’s an asshole, but he’s likely to be less of an ass if there are witnesses. You want nice, simple, don’t have to talk to him? This is the best way.” Bucky paused. “Unless you want me to get Nat’s help, and then we’ll just go rob the place. That might be fun. Say I can do that.”

That got a laugh out of Tony. “No, do not commit crimes on my behalf, please.” He tossed down a few bills and stood up. He gulped down the last of the coffee from his mug like it was whiskey. “All right, let’s go do this before I chicken out again.”

“Absolutely.” He grabbed his jacket and pulled it on. “Flag us down a cab or something and I’ll text Steve to let him know where I’m going.” Bucky always texted Steve, that was a habit dating back from when they were kids and Steve was using a cheap phone that Bucky put minutes on from time to time, just so Bucky could come get Steve out of messes. 

“Yeah, okay.” Tony was chewing his lip like he did when he was nervous or uncertain, but he headed out the door with a decent approximation of his usual cheerful wave for their waitress and the hostess.

“It’ll be fine,” Bucky said, after he finished his text. “I yell louder than Ty does, and I’m bigger than he is.” And he had actual muscle. Ty was mostly gym-boy abs who got sweaty and weepy if he ran more than half a mile.

“My hero,” Tony teased, fluttering those long lashes of his ridiculously. He pulled open the cab door and gestured grandly. “After you.”

* * *

Tony watched the buildings go by, little slices of sky behind them, there and gone in a flash, and tried not to think about what they were doing.

Ty had been... a mistake. One of Tony’s bigger mistakes, but he’d been so _sure_ that he could make a difference, gentle Ty’s dickishness, make Ty into a better person.

That was dumb, right? They cautioned against that sort of thinking in fucking _Seventeen_ and _Tiger Beat_ ; that was something Tony should have known better than to try. But those times when Ty was sweet, it was so _good_ , so _warm_ , and it just... Tony hadn’t wanted to give up the illusion.

The breakup, when Tony had finally pulled his head out of his ass, had been _horrible_. Reality television levels of screaming and accusation and drama. Tony shuddered just thinking about it. It had been months since he and Ty had split up, and he still went the long way around the block where Ty lived now, rather than risk running into the man on the sidewalk.

But with Bucky along... Maybe he could do this.

Bucky wouldn’t let Tony cave under Ty’s yelling. He wouldn’t let Ty snow him with that syrupy poison, try to convince Tony that it was all a mistake. Wouldn’t let Ty lie about it.

Bucky was solid. Good. He was a good friend, sympathetic without pitying, smart and funny and... Tony maybe had just a little bit of a crush, but that was a non-starter, because Bucky already knew what a god damned tire fire Tony’s life was. But it was nice of him to come along and help get back Ana’s waffle iron.

Tony didn’t even have waffles that often, but it had broken his heart when he’d gotten home after Ty moved out and realized the asshole had taken that waffle iron, one of the few little pieces of Ana and Jarvis that he’d had left. And she would have laughed at him outright if she’d known -- “It’s just a machine, Tony, it doesn’t have any special meaning,” she would have said -- but it ached, nonetheless, to know that something that held so many warm and happy memories for Tony was held prisoner in Tiberius Stone’s hands.

Bucky was cheerfully reading off the texts that Steve Rogers had sent him, about Steve kicking Ty’s ass. Which was moderately hilarious, because a stiff wind could knock Rogers down in a fight. Steve Rogers was like a cross between a honey badger -- didn’t even care, would fuck you up - and a guinea pig. Noisy, fierce, and relatively harmless. Steve was ninety pounds of fight in an eight pound bag. He would kick your ass, he would kick his own ass. But mostly, he just fell down. It was nice to have the support, though, ridiculous as it was.

“‘Take him out, and--’ oh, no, I’m censoring that bit. Punk.”

Tony managed a bit of a chuckle at that. “I didn’t realize Steve had so many opinions about my ex,” he said. Of course, Steve would have opinions about _everything_ , because it was Steve, but Tony didn’t know Steve had considered Ty’s dickishness in particular.

“Steve doesn’t like bullies,” Bucky said. “Doesn’t matter who they are, where they come from. He also says he can’t this weekend, because he’s behind on this portrait commission, but next weekend, he and Sam and Nat are coming over, and you’re making waffles for everyone in celebration.”

“I am, huh?” A little bit of warmth blossomed in Tony’s chest. He had friends now, and that was worth smiling about. “Yeah, I might be willing to swing that. Chicken and waffle dinner, maybe.”

“Perfect,” Bucky said. He reached out across the cab seat and gave Tony’s forearm a little squeeze. It wasn’t quite like holding hands or anything so vaguely third-grade-ish, but it was nice. “Oh, look, here we are.”

The building was… nice, although not as nice as Tony’s building. Which was probably only to be expected. And Ty lived in exactly the middle-ish area, where the apartments were still affordable, and yet not astronomical. Well, for New York.

“Yep, we certainly are... here.” Tony dropped a cash tip on the driver, which he’d heard was better than adding it to the fare on his credit card because it meant the cab company couldn’t take a percentage. He got out of the cab and looked up at the building. “This definitely is the place.” Cold washed through him. “Maybe we should have called ahead or something.”

“And give him time to make a plan?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Here, no, walk slow, let’s just slip in when someone opens the door. No need to buzz him.”

Tony got the feeling that Bucky had done this -- or something like this -- more than Tony really wanted to know about. Bucky jumped forward as a lady was headed toward the door from the lobby, carrying what looked like four full dufflebags on her back. She buzzed the door and Bucky opened it for her. “Laundry machines down again?”

“They’re all full,” the woman sighed. “And Daisy’s got some sort of stomach bug. I can’t believe how many sets of sheets she’s puked on.”

Bucky made a face. “Damn, that sucks, sorry to hear it.” He kept the door open until Tony followed him in, giving the lady a little wave as she went. “Establishing an alibi. She’ll think we live here now.”

Now Tony was sure that Bucky sometimes did things that Tony didn’t want to know about. For plausible deniability, if nothing else.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Ty’s on the fourteenth floor, I think.” He scanned the mailboxes in the lobby until he found _Stone_ written in messy blue ballpoint and stuck on a box with a sticker. Box 1408. “Yeah, fourteen.”

The elevator ride was full of uneasy silence. Tony didn’t know what to say, but he was incredibly aware of Bucky standing next to him, a solid block of reassurance at his side. 

When they walked onto the fourteenth floor, Bucky looked both ways, and then headed down the hall. “You want me to knock?”

“What? I’m sure he’s got a bell. I’m not totally helpless, I think I can push a button.” Tony was feeling prickly, literally, his skin tingling pins and needles.

“I don’t think you’re helpless,” Bucky protested. “But I know-- look, dealing with your ex is hard, even when he’s not a raging asshole. I mean, you remember Brock Rumlow, right?”

Contrary to Bucky’s belief, Tony was going to completely put Brock Rumlow in the category of Raging Asshole. 

“So, if you don’t want to deal with him, I’ll ring the bell and stand here and look intimidatingly beautiful.”

“Shouldn’t be hard,” Tony muttered, reaching past Bucky to push the doorbell. If he then took a step back so Bucky was half in front of him, well, that was just habit, really. Not to be too close to the door when it opened.

Tony had heard Nat tease Bucky about his resting murder face before, but on the few occasions he’d seen Bucky grouchy, he’d wondered if she was exaggerating. She wasn’t. Bucky straightened up a little, lifted his chin, and Tony could almost see the Murder, Death, Kill in his eyes. Woah, Sergeant Spooky. It probably shouldn’t have been sexy.

Kinda was.

Ty obviously hadn’t checked the peephole, because he opened the door wide, and then tried to cover his surprise. “Tony, babe, how are you?”

“Not your babe,” Tony said. It was a lot easier to be firm with Bucky right there. “I want my waffle iron.”

Ty looked offended, aghast, a bunch of other adjectives, and… _guilty_. And then it all vanished into his wide-eyed “who me” expression. “What are you even talking about?”

Bucky took a step forward, and Tony didn’t fail to notice that Ty took a step back. “The waffle iron. That’s all we want. You can keep all the rest of the shit you took from him.”

“Waffle. Iron. I know you remember me telling you about Ana giving it to me, because you mocked me about it every time we used it after that,” Tony said. And then, in a moment of revelation that probably should not have come as a surprise, but somehow did, he added “In fact, that’s probably why you took it.” It was strange, that Ty’s asshole tendencies could continue to shock him like this. “Just give it to me, and we’ll go away.”

Ty sniffed. “I think you should leave,” and he tried to close the door. 

Bucky’s foot was very, very solid, and the door stopped moving. “Give it back to him.”

“I will call the police,” Ty threatened.

Bucky scoffed. “I’ve been arrested before. Do you have any idea how badly I can hurt you before they get here?” He pushed the door the rest of the way open, against Ty’s struggling to shut it. “Tony, go find it.”

“Yep.” Tony slid past Ty. “Excuse me; I have to go make a scene.” He marched across the front room until he spotted the kitchen.

Ty abruptly abandoned his efforts to close the door in favor of grabbing Tony by the back of his jacket and hauling him back several steps. “Get out of my ho--”

“Don’t you _fucking_ touch him,” Bucky said. He was careful not to touch Ty, but he was there, and he was huge, and his face looked like he’d ordered an extra large helping of whoop-ass for breakfast.

“Fine, you want it, fine!” Ty flounced into the kitchenette with as much drama as he could manage. Grabbed the waffle iron from its place of honor -- more like a trophy than anything, Tony thought -- and--

Fucking threw it out the goddamn window.

Glass shattered, an alarm went off, and the whole thing went out the window and down _fourteen stories_.

“Are you out of _your fucking mind_?” Bucky appeared entirely flabbergasted, and a moment later there was a faint, startled shout from below. “Wow, that, uh, that wasn’t nice.”

“Oh my god,” Tony breathed. He leaned toward the window and tried to look down, but he couldn’t get a clear view of the sidewalk. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Ty?” he demanded, but he really didn’t want to know the answer. He grabbed for Bucky’s wrist, because punching Ty wasn’t going to help matters now. “Come on, it... Maybe I can fix it.” He tugged, and if Bucky didn’t want to move, there was no way Tony was going to be able to force the issue, but Bucky stepped back, and stepped again, letting Tony steer them back out of Ty’s apartment.

As they reached the door, Bucky pulled his phone out of his pocket. “By the way, asswipe, don’t get any funny ideas. I was recording from the time we knocked on the door. If you hurt someone with that shit-- you won’t be able to pin it on us.”

The door slid closed behind them.

“What, really?” Tony said, still pulling Bucky toward the elevator. “You’re brilliant, I didn’t even think-- Oh, fuck, did he really fucking _do_ that?” His brain was swirling around in his skull like soap bubbles going down the sink. He couldn’t _think_ , all he could do was watch that moment over and over, the curl of a sneer on Ty’s lip, the crash of the window, the last glimpse of silvery metal as the waffle iron disappeared.

“He really did,” Bucky said. “And I’m pretty sure my recording will convince a judge to grant you a restraining order, so you never have to deal with him again. I’m so sorry about your waffle iron. I thought he’d just threaten us, or something.”

Tony laughed, a little hysterically, as he jabbed the elevator button. “I didn’t even think he’d go that far,” he admitted. “I thought he’d whine and bitch and lie and then try to pretend he’d packed it by accident or something. Not... you know, something fundamentally _crazy_.”

“I hang out with Steve Rogers. A lot. By choice. I’ve seen some fundamentally crazy shit before. But it’s usually not quite so random. I hope he didn’t _kill anybody_ \--” Bucky glared back at the door, which snapped shut again. 

Tony glanced back at the door, then pushed past the elevator doors before they’d even fully opened. “We’d probably have heard more yelling, if he did?” he said, more hopeful than certain. They were halfway down to the lobby when Tony realized he was still holding Bucky’s wrist. He let go quickly. “Shit, sorry, I’m really not thinking right.”

“Hey, no,” Bucky said, and he reached out and took Tony’s hand. “It’s okay. That was weird and kinda scary. I mean, I’ve been through stuff, and I’m good under pressure. But it was still scary.” Bucky had been in the army for most of his early twenties, Tony knew. Served a tour and got out to pay for college, which is where he and Tony met. (Tony had been TAing for one of Bucky’s classes.)

Which meant, if Bucky thought it was scary, maybe Tony was okay for being scared.

“Yeah,” he confessed. “Yeah, it kind of was.” Bucky holding his hand was helping more than he wanted to admit, too. He took a breath and managed to paste on something like a calm face as they exited the elevator. “Come on, let’s go see how many pieces it’s in. If it’s just the case that broke, I might be able to fix it.”

“There, recording uploaded, in case something happens. This ex-boyfriend interaction has been recorded for quality control purposes, we value your time and thank you for waiting…”

Tony sputtered out something like a laugh, and half-pulled Bucky outside and around the side of the building, where-- “Oh my god, you poor thing...” He all but ran to the scattered wreckage on the sidewalk below. It didn’t look like anyone had been hurt -- thank god -- but the waffle iron had broken into at least a dozen pieces. The heating plate, in particular, was shattered, and the case was all but unrecognizable. There was an actual chunk taken out of the sidewalk where it had impacted. “Holy shit.”

Bucky made a face. “Gravity is a harsh mistress. I’m sorry, Tony. He did that just to upset you. I mean, if we’d left him alone, you still wouldn’t have it, but at least you’d know it was still, you know. Around.”

“I think...” Ana appeared in Tony’s vision, laughing and warm and loving. “I think the Jarvises would rather it died than know it was being kept for the express purpose of upsetting me,” Tony said. He knelt down to pick up the little indicator light, which had popped free of its housing. “Right?”

“I’m sure she knows you can remember them without a piece of cast iron,” Bucky said, reassuring, his hand squeezing Tony’s shoulder in comfort. “Come on, let’s-- well, Steve already expects waffles. I bet we can get you a new one. I’ll bring over my engraving kit and we can name it Jarvis or something?”

“You... you have an engraving kit?” Tony said, blinking up at him. “Why?”

“Clint might have been misled to think I did, in fact, carve people’s names on bullets,” Bucky said. “You know, while I was being a sniper. I told him I lost my kit in the war.”

“Oh my god,” Tony said, laughing helplessly. “And he gave you a new one?” He let Bucky pull him to his feet. “Okay. Okay, a new waffle iron. And then we can go back to your place and you can engrave its name on and I’ll make up a batch of batter so we can test it.”

“That sounds great,” Bucky said. He took a deep breath, and then-- “You know, you really are better off without that guy. You deserve… so much better in a boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed glumly. “You know where I can find a good one?”

Bucky tugged their hands up from where they were still linked. “Uh, don’t look now, but-- maybe you got one on the line?” He wasn’t quite looking at Tony, his cheeks dark and his eyelashes fluttering with tension. If it was a joke, Bucky was putting it through its paces. And if it wasn’t a joke-- “I mean, I know it’s not a good time, but it never seems to be a good time, and this is the first time we’re single at the same time…”

“What, are you actually-- _Yes_ ,” Tony said quickly. “No takebacks!”

"Really? Because seriously, that was not cool of me. I promise, I'll work harder to be less of a dork if you really mean it."

“I said no takebacks,” Tony said, squeezing Bucky’s hand tighter. “And I kind of like that you’re a dork.”

"Good, because I was _totally_ lying," Bucky said. "I don't think I know how to be cool. As evidenced."

Then he all but picked Tony up in his enthusiasm for a hug, and an unexpectedly sweet kiss. 

Maybe it was the waffle syrup.


End file.
